


After Hours

by sushibomb



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Prompt Fic, Threesome, Voyeurism, month of smut project, triolism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 14:35:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushibomb/pseuds/sushibomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Munakata, Fushimi, and Awashima often look to each other to unwind late at night, after the gates of SCEPTER 4 Headquarters are locked. Smut. Munakata/Awashima/Fushimi OT3. Filling a double prompt: Voyuerism/Triolism.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Prompt #1 and #17 of this smut meme going around on tumblr. 
> 
> Double Prompt: Part 1-Voyeurism: my/your character watching the other having sex/masturbating
> 
> Part 2-Triolism (Characters in a threesome)
> 
> Pairing: Munakata/Awashima/Fushimi
> 
> Warnings: smut, language, etc.
> 
> Disclaimer: Sushi*Bomb does not own [K] Project. This was written solely to entertain.

"You just couldn't wait, could you?"

Among their better qualities, his second and third in command were not the types to waste any time. Munakata slowly tugged his coat open button by button, gingerly stepping over Fushimi's overcoat and vest, which were strewn haphazardly across the floor, as well as Awashima's skirt and boots, as he did so. He wasn't in a hurry unlike the two of them had clearly been, so he simply let his coat slide down his arms and folded it neatly over the back of a chair before setting to work removing his dress shirt.

At the moment, the only one stalling was him. Not that it mattered; Fushimi and Awashima were more into the foreplay aspect of it then he was, so he preferred to sit back and watch them for a bit before eventually joining in.

He walked around the bed –his bed—as he undid his belt, letting his hand ghost over Fushimi's bare shoulders in passing to signal his arrival. From Fushimi's shoulder, his fingertips drifted to Awashima's thigh, which was slung over the younger man's shoulder. He noted, a soft smirk spreading across his lips, the way his lieutenant's lacy red thong, which was still hanging off of her ankle, brushed against Fushimi's skin as she wrapped her thighs around his head.

"Stop that…" Fushimi muttered as he sat up on his elbows and forced her thighs apart. Awashima gave him an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry, can't help it." She said quietly. Her hand trailed up his cheek and back into his hair, giving it a soft tug. Fushimi looked over his shoulder.

"Where the hell have you been?" He asked. Munakata shrugged. "I had paperwork to finish. Were the two of you waiting long?"

"No, sir."

Munakata felt a little shiver travel up his body. Although he knew that she was just trying to maintain some semblance of a professional relationship (leave it to her to think of professionalism even with her direct subordinate laying between her legs), Munakata had to wonder if Seri was aware of how her tone, thick with sex, made that 'sir' sound to his ears. Or if she even understood the connotation of that simple little word under such intimate settings, for that matter.

Regardless, he liked it.

"Good." He uttered in response as he set his saber against his nightstand and sat down on the bed, letting his head fall back against the headboard.

"You're just going to watch again?"

Munakata chuckled as he removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand, next to Fushimi's glasses and Awashima's hair piece.

"I'll join in soon. Just allow me a few minutes to relax first. Carry on."

Fushimi rolled his eyes with a not so silent 'whatever, old man' before setting back to work on his superior.

They made quite a sight, Munakata had to admit with a fond smirk.

Fushimi wasn't one for strenuous activity, by any means. Sex included, as he mentioned many times previously. He much preferred being ridden, or whatever position meant the least work for him. Which was why he usually ended up letting Munakata have his way with him; if he could avoid having to move too much, Fushimi was happy to let both of them do what they wanted.

That, and he really liked foreplay more anyway. Frankly speaking, Fushimi had a sharp tongue, but damn could he do some incredible things with it. His duvet was slightly damp underneath the two of them; a testament to Fushimi's talents.

Munakata settled back comfortably, lighting a cigarette and exhaling a thick plume of smoke.

Awashima was spread out wantonly over the top of his bed, wearing nothing but her white dress shirt and bra underneath. The last few buttons were undone, leaving the milky expanse of her stomach, tensing and relaxing in tandem with the motions of Fushimi's fingers curling inside her, completely exposed.

He loved the sensual way her back arched when Fushimi flattened his tongue and let it glide slowly over her clitoris; even more so when Fushimi's eyes drifted upward to meet his and stayed locked on him as he did it again. Seri let out a muffled moan. Her hand, still entangled in Fushimi's hair, fisted the dark locks tightly.

Fushimi looked away after a moment, focusing on Seri. He slid his fingers out of her, instead letting them ghost over her clit teasingly, laughing to himself when she twitched at the sensation. He rubbed it slowly as he looked up at her, relishing in the sound of her groaning his name. From her, he looked back up to Munakata, who was quietly watching them, cigarette dangling from his lips.

"…Fushimi…"Awashima moaned into her sleeve, rocking her hips against his face, ushering him on. With a smirk, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her closer, flicking her clit with the tip of his tongue before closing his lips over it.

Munakata tapped the ash off of his cigarette, letting his eyes drift shut. The sounds of his lieutenant, seconds away from her first of many climaxes that night, music to his ears. He felt a hand on his thigh, drifting towards his crotch.

"…Captain…"

She really was beautiful. With her blonde hair fanned out around her and her cheeks flushed, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Munakata smiled down at the hand she extended towards him, the one currently tugging at his zipper, and traced over the back of her hand with a fingertip.

"Alright, alright. I'm finished." He said in amusement as he put out his cigarette in the glass ashtray on his nightstand. Awashima made a curious little noise in response; to him, it sounded almost giddy.

With both hands now free, he leaned over her and tugged the rest of the buttons on her shirt open. Her chest was rising and falling quickly in time with her shallow pants, and through the sheer fabric of her bra, also red lace, he could see her hardened nipples pressed firm against the material.

Awashima's breathing hitched as Munakata kissed that certain spot on her neck that drove her wild, her hand immediately burying itself in his hair. Awashima was the kind of woman who never quite knew what to do with her hands during sex; so more often than not, they ended up tangled in his hair, or Fushimi's hair, or in this case, both. Although, he minded a lot less than Fushimi did.

He would never admit it outright, but he was a little tender-headed, especially around his bangs. Which, coincidentally, was Awashima's preferred grabbing spot when Fushimi went down on her.

Fushimi would often say, with a sort of resigned melancholy in his tone, that his 'prodigious pussy-eating talents' were both a gift and a curse. Or, rather, they made up for his general indifference to traditional intercourse. For the record, those were his words exclusively; Munakata found that word to be particularly vulgar and as such would never use it. That, and it reminded him a lot of Suoh's generally barbaric way of speaking. Even after so long, Fushimi still had his moments when his past in HOMRA was quite apparent.

And Munakata had never been into talking dirty, anyway.

Munakata smirked silently against Awashima's cheek, nuzzling it with his nose before tilting her chin back for a kiss, to which she responded eagerly. She moaned against his lips as she -thankfully- relinquished her hold on Fushimi's hair and pulled him closer. With deft fingers, Munakata reached down and undid the clasp on the front of her bra, letting her surprisingly pert breasts free. He tugged the now useless garment down her bare shoulder.

"Ms. Awashima, if you please." He whispered in her ear.

Seri sat up for a moment, enough time for Munakata to pull both her shirt and bra down her bare arms.

"Here, put this back on." He said, handing her the white dress shirt back. Somehow, just a plain white shirt, barely covering her slender body, made her all the more enticing. She did so quietly, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She knew that not only was Munakata watching her, but Fushimi as well.

With the shirt hanging loosely off of her shoulders, she laid herself back down, letting out a laugh as Fushimi roughly grabbed her hips and yanked her back towards him. For someone so slight of frame, Fushimi could be quite strong when he felt like making an effort. There were sure to be bruises on her thighs and hips the next day, but she didn't really mind. They were the sign of a job well-done, as far as she was concerned.

And true to that fact, she relaxed in his hold as he trailed his fingers over her clit and slid them back into her, fingering her slowly. At the same time, Munakata was hovering just over her, his hand kneading one of her breasts under the thin fabric of her shirt. She shuddered when his thumb brushed over her nipple.

"Come down." She uttered, tugging him down for another kiss. Munakata obliged her, leaning down to give her a slow, heated kiss before pulling away, their lips clicking softly as they parted. Munakata gave her another kiss on the neck before glancing down at Fushimi.

The younger man was thrusting his fingers in and out of her, albeit at a more sedated pace than before, curling them every so often before pulling them out completely. Awashima's head lolled to the side, moaning his name into the duvet as her back ached with pleasure. With a quiet 'you like that?', he pulled her close and sucked tenderly on her clit -tender for Fushimi, anyway- before moving down to the moistened folds of her core.

Awashima let out a low, languid moan, her body shuddering from the warm wave of pleasure coursing through it. Oddly enough, Fushimi was surprisingly capable at finding the almost invisible line between pleasurable and painful. The way he let his teeth graze over her now sensitive clitoris was not quite painful, but just enough so that it made her head fall back against the bed with a satisfied groan of his name and made her legs twitch and quiver against his cheek.

"Fushimi?"

Fushimi glanced up. "Hm?"

"What does she taste like?" Munakata asked softly. The younger man shrugged as he sat up straight. "I don't know how to explain, really," He said as he licked one his wet fingers, "Not bad, though."

"Hn, I can see that."

Fushimi said nothing, instead giving him a knowing smirk as he slowly sucked his fingers clean, groaning lightly. When his hand was clean, Fushimi casually wiped his mouth with his thumb, not letting even a single drop go to waste.

Not bad, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 is in-progress. Please be patient with me!


End file.
